


Barry it's Cold Outside

by wordswehavesaid



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Snowed In, implied Parkwest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/pseuds/wordswehavesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver tends to a nearly-frozen speedster when Barry tries to make them a path in a blizzard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barry it's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starrxlorrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrxlorrd/gifts).



> Cheesy title is cheesy but I had to. This is for the Olivarry Holiday Weekend Event on tumblr which you can find out more about [here](http://olivarryweek.tumblr.com/). Enjoy!

“That was one of the stupidest things I think I’ve seen you do, Barry,” Oliver says through gritted teeth as he shoves his full weight against the front door, forcing it to close on what seems an ever-growing wall of snow, “and that’s really saying something. What did you think you were doing?”

“Get-getting us out’ve here?” His eyes are locked on the fire his partner’s just started in the West living room fireplace, willing it to burn brighter and hotter with his eyes. He feels absolutely frozen from head to toe and is practically dying for some kind of warmth.

With Joe scheduled for the precinct and Iris staying the night at Linda’s, it’d seemed the perfect opportunity for Barry to host Oliver for once, considering most nights seemed to end with him falling into the older man’s bed. He didn’t want to seem like he was just inviting himself over all the time, though. Things had been going fine, Oliver even helping him a little with some of the interior Christmas decorating Iris had assigned him, until the snowfall outside turned into an absolute _blizzard_.

Barry knew Oliver wasn’t going to be happy if they ended up trapped inside and he wasn’t too keen on it either, especially since he’d come to learn almost any freak weather occurrence in Central was only the beginning of one of Weather Wizard’s plots, and so he’d resolved to try and get them out of it. He’d figured by stepping outside and vibrating his body fast enough, he’d be able to melt through the snow and form them a path.

But the snowdrifts had been deep and chilling, and without the thermal protection of his suit—which was back at the lab—he’d ended up having a reaction similar to a blast from the cold gun. Next thing he knew, Oliver had been charging out the door and picking him up, depositing him on the couch in front of the fire.

“How are you feeling?” His partner asks after a beat of silence, barely-concealed concern breaking through the stern façade.

“I th-think ‘cold’ is a pretty a-accurate s-summary,” Barry can’t help replying a bit flippantly as shivers wrack his body. Not the kind of vibrations from his speed that he can control, just normal, human trembling.

“Well you nearly gave yourself hypothermia,” Oliver helpfully reminds. “We need to get your body back to normal temperature. Do you have extra blankets stored somewhere?”

“Linen closet. Upstairs h-hallway, first door on- on the left.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Oliver tells him, a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder—God, his hands are _warm_!—saying over his shoulder as he leaves, “Start taking your clothes off. They’re only making your condition worse soaked through like that.”

“This isn’t exactly how I expected date night to go,” he gets out through his chattering teeth as he struggles with the sleeves of his sweater, and hears a soft laugh from Oliver on the stairs. The other vigilante dumps a literal mountain of blankets on the end of the couch when he comes back down, but keeps walking straight into the kitchen. Barry hears cabinets and drawers being opened and shut as he works the wet clothes off of him. They’re sticking to him like a second skin, but he gets his head through the hole. The arms, however, are proving to be more difficult. It doesn’t help that the cold is making his limbs not cooperate.

“Are you making hot chocolate?” He calls out, a bit muffled. “Cause we’re out of the little marshmallows.”

“You’ll live.”

He hears footsteps returning from the kitchen and there’s hands taking a hold of the hem of both his sweater and shirt, peeling them off of him. Oliver helps methodically strips him down completely. If his cheeks weren’t already pink from the cold, he’d probably be blushing.

“Thanks.”

The older man shakes his head and walks back towards the kitchen, probably to give himself something to do besides look at Barry. Which isn’t exactly ideal, but neither is his own half-frozen body, so he reaches over and starts pulling the blankets around himself in a little cocoon. They’re soft and sort of warm, yet it hardly does much with how deep-set the chill in his bones is, so he’s happy to see Oliver returning with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and maybe grabs at it a bit too greedily.

“Mm,” he hums after the first gulp, licking his lips for more of the chocolatey taste as the hot liquid is swallowed down and starts warming him from the inside out. Barry looks up then, quirks an eyebrow at the other. “You made yourself one too, right?”

Oliver’s mouth opens, but it takes a moment for anything to come out. “Barry, I…I don’t really—”

“It’s Christmas. You’re drinking hot chocolate with me.”

His partner’s lips press together in a stubborn line that he holds for maybe a second before turning on his heel, muttering something about Christmas technically being a few days off. Barry takes another sip of his own drink in victory.

Oliver’s quick to return, and thus he’s quick to point out, “See? Enough for both of us.”

“You need it more,” the man disputes weakly, holding the mug between two hands but not drinking. “I’m perfectly warm.”

“Right.” Barry rolls his eyes. Then a thought occurs to him. “You know, since you don’t get cold the least you can do is warm me up.” He shifts forward on the couch and lifts the blankets in invitation.

Oliver sighs, acting put-upon but is grinning as he sets his mug on the coffee table in order to slip in behind Barry, wrapping strong arms around him and pulling him back to rest against a broad chest, better than any blanket. Barry nuzzles into the other man with a contented sigh.

After a while, Oliver looks down at him, a mixture of exasperation and fondness warring in his features. “I should be mad at you.”

Barry knows he ought to be feeling or at least looking contrite. But he smirks instead. “You’re not. You like taking care of me.” The older man doesn’t answer with words, but his own soft smile is enough. Barry’s falters a little as he says softly, “Sorry I couldn’t get us out of here.”

“I’m pretty happy where I am.” He nearly drops his hot chocolate in shock. It’s rare, so rare for Oliver to say he’s happy, and so freely. Barry feels like his heart is swelling inside his chest, completely chasing away the cold, and his full beam stretches across his face.

The fire crackles, their legs tangle, and they drink in companionable silence as the snow continues to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, yes, after this holiday weekend event, my #1 priority will be finishing the next chapter of Partners. Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday season to everyone!


End file.
